A Noxians thoughts
by StarkRavenmad12
Summary: When Jericho Swain has time to himself, he delves deeper into his mindset, and even remembers a battle
1. Jericho Swain, Master Tactition

Well, guys…ya miss me ?  
>I know, I know, I have two HORRIBLE stories I need to either delete or continue….probably the first one. Buuuuut, in the meantime, I am working on my writing, and I'm trying to do something new. League of Legends. That's right, you might as well consider this my first "LoL fanfiction". Now, I should let things be known now: Little to no romance. Considering how the person I'm focusing on is Jericho Swain, you can fully expect this oneshot story to be a dive into his thought process, how a battle(a real battle, not just a point and click battle) with him would go, and what not. I'm assuming a lot of it, and will probably not do the master tactician much justice, but here we go.<p>

I do not own any of the following characters, they are all the property of Riot Games.

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Deep in his tent, Jericho Swain stared down at the maps of Kalamanda. For too long has Noxus and Demacia been playing their game of chicken, and his patience was growing thin. The pain in his leg was unbearable…however, he had learned long ago, pain is a signal, one that can be ignored. Looking over to his shoulder, he watched as the ebony bird looked back at him with 3 glowing red eyes.

"Much to do, isn't there, Beatrice…" he whispered, gently caressing the bird with a single bony finger. The bird took the petting with eagerness, gently nuzzling into the finger. "I suppose I am lucky….not many summoners have the power to gain my attention, and those that do usually end the battle quickly…" he whispered, his scratchy throat softening. Like any champion of the League, the Noxian commander had to deal with the idiocy of his summoners, and would often have to deal with defeat.

Far too often did he wish that they'd screen who could use him, focusing on only those that could possibly take full advantage of his skills. "I suppose everyone has that issue though." He chuckled, grabbing a grape from the bowl on his desk. Moving the tiny fruit to his bird, he continued to think, reminiscing.

Arriving at that hospital….becoming a general for the Noxian army…his "discharge" from service. That's all anyone truly knew of him. Sure, his time spent in the "Black Rose" with Lady LeBlanc was known, but not much of what he did in there, or even how he was associated with it now was common knowledge. The Summoners could only delve into so much. The Master summoners knew his life as though it was an open book for them to read. But to the general public, and even to most of normal summoners…he was as much of an enigma to them as he was to his own city-state of Noxus.

Ah…Noxus. His home…some would deem it "evil" for its cold ways to the weak. However, evil isn't what the Noxians referred it. They called it "logic". After all, when running a militant city, one must make sure that the strong are trained. However, Jericho looked at his cane, propped against the table. Weaknesses was just another word for "untrained".

He, a cripple, was one of the most powerful mages of Noxus. Sure, that "Veigar" fellow had his own powerful spells, spells that could rival his own. However, when it came down to it, Swain was one of the most powerful Noxians alive. He may be crippled….but his drive caused his power. That was the first thing he was going to change when he was the King of Noxus. Everyone would be equally trained. Upon discovering an individual's talents, he or she would be pushed to almost deadly points to achieve equality of power.

One could go further, but if everyone was like that, the citizens may decide that Swain was an "unfit" king and attempt to usurp him. He did NOT wish for this. Swain shook his head. "Never plan for the future as though it's guaranteed." He reminded himself. "A strategy must be flexible." The small bird on his shoulder gave a quick nod of agreement. With a chuckle, the aged commander leaned back a bit, and closed his eyes…remembering one of his more recent battles...

_The thin mist about Summoners Rift was not enough for cover; however, the bushes were perfect. 'Always start simple'. Jericho thought, as he stayed several paces in front of his team's 3__rd__ top lane turret. Jericho stayed silent, listening as Vlad, the vampire, stood out, pacing back and forth in a rather haughty fashion. 'Bait your enemy'. The smirk on Swain's face would be obvious if it wasn't for the face mask. Hopping back and forth, Beatrice seemed excited. "Shush, my dear." The Noxian whispered. "You'll get your meal." Sure enough, Kyze walked forward to Vlad, flourishing his magic, perhaps in ceremony, perhaps to frighten Vlad. All the same, it was a waste. Vlad smirked, and took the time to bow low. _

"_Hello, Friend." The blood controlling mage whispered to the opponent. "All by your lonesome?" No, of course he wasn't. The common course of action was to set 2 to the top and bottom lanes, and allow single combat in the middle. Not quite a rule, but more of a common practice. One that was difficult to have summoners break. _

_Ryze stayed silent, before charging forward. Sure enough, the two took the time to share magical blows, one of what seemed to be electricity, the other, his own life's fluid. Continuing his spectation, the Raven Mage soon noticed Annie, the devil child, running up, a look of determination in her eyes. Staying in the bushes, Jericho focused at 3 paces in front of Ryze. Annie would arrive their soon. Eyes glowing, Jericho began to feel a rush of magical energy come from Beatrice. A little longer…and….NOW! The High Command pictured his pow-no, not his, their…his and Beatrice's- their power, rooting Ryze and Annie to the ground. The summoning circle quickly appeared. The Two opponents glanced down, eyes wide. Their summoners were not prepared for a battle against The Master Tactition. A shame. Large Raven claws tore from the ground, taking a tight grip of the two. Vlad smirked, charging forward at the two. _

"_THAT WHICH RUNS THROUGH YOU WILL RUN YOU THROUGH!" He roared in victory, as he sent a blast of his blood at the two. The two fell, out of commission. Swain knew that kill was going to go under as an "assist" for him. But it was for the best. Let others have the glory; it was the only thing they seemed to care about._

_The Battle waged on. As to be expected, Swain had fallen once or twice, but nothing that could not be repaired. He was now in the middle lane, and just laid waste to a wave of Minions. However, he heard the tale-tell footsteps of Master Yi. Swain cursed, knowing that he had to play this battle smart. Indeed, the Swordsman soon charged at the Noxian, his blade glowing brightly as he brought it down upon Swain. The blade caught Swain's arm, however, his face did not falter. A massive green bolt of energy in his hand, Swain hit the swordsman with it, at point blank. Flying backward Yi, quickly composed himself, and charged at Swain once more. Jericho smirked a bit. "Now, my dear." He whispered to Beatrice. The Raven flew off of her master's shoulder, and shot a blast of electricity at their enemy. Yi yelled in pain, and deemed this the time to run away…but now, even he, one of the fastest champions in the League, was slowed to a crawl. Soon, though, a brilliant white light appeared beneath him…looking down, Yi saw the raven claws rip from the ground, and about his legs. Screaming in pain, he realized he couldn't move. _

"_Raven's are Carrions, my friend…they feast on the dead…and guess what." Swain's words slowly changed from his usual scratchiness to a monstrous growl. "You're close to it." He roared, as ravens charged from the twisted Swain, now in the form of a large demonic raven. Yi screamed in pain as the birds ripped the flesh from his bones. Soon, though, Master Yi fell, cold and lifeless. Swain de-morphed, allowing the last of the birds to heal him. Looking at his arm, he smirked at the now completely sealed gash that Yi had caused. Soon, an explosion could be heard from the enemy base._

_"Another Opponent…another Disappointment." He laughed, limping towards the column of smoke._

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_Okay, there we go. Maybe I'll make more of these. If you'd like, suggest a Champion, I'll try and play as that specific champion for a bit, and see if I can get a story idea in mind._


	2. Emilie Leblanc, The Deciever

Hey Folks, before I start, let me know that this was written as a sort of sequel to my first Fanfiction "A Noxian's Thoughts". I don't often play LeBlanc *cough ever cough* but, hey, here's a try at some assumption making!

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>The night came. The Matron of the Black Rose was sitting at her usual place within the dark depths of Noxus, the mage-flame lighting up the small room, perfectly. Dressed in her usual attire, she carefully used a spot of sugar to sweeten the tea she had made, a small careful smile on her face. The room itself had 3 entrances. 2 doors that led into the halls, and a secret escape, used to escape if she required a quick getaway. Smiling to herself, Lady Le Blanc watched the doors, her eyes shifting between the two. "Come come, you should be here by now" she whispered, tapping her staff upon the stony floor, the click echoing slightly. Suddenly, a bony, scarred hand gripped her shoulder, firmly, though gentle.<p>

"But I am here, Matron" Came the Generals rough voice, smoothed by amusement. The matron groaned. She hated when he did that.

"How did you do it? The wardrobe door was bolted shut, only allowing me out…"

"Surely the matron enjoys a good game?" Jericho's voice was only soft around her. Be it for reverence for her position of power, or for their …relationship. Le Blanc moaned in tiredness as the General limped to the chair across from her, lowering himself slowly.

"..you snuck in beforehand and waited in the normal part of the wardrobe, didn't you…"

"Worth it to keep you on your toes, Matron." The aged general said, pulling his mask further up his face, coughing slightly. His age was taking its toll on the general…

The young sorceress looked at Swain, disgust painted on her face as she looked at the uniform he wore. A pet of the general…that's what the robes and armor meant to her..but the signet ring on his finger…that spoke of family. Of the past the two had shared. The man was infuriating, and if it was any other person, she would suspect him of treachery…but the two had an understanding of each other. Any plans they would make against each other would easily be ruined by the other…they also shared a special respect for one another. Jericho was using the Rose…but the Rose was also using Swain…they needed each other. Swain wanted power, something all of the rose wanted. Something Emilia knew she had to fight for…they'd burn that bridge when they crossed it. For now, they were allies. They were…partners.

"You're lost in thought, Matron," Jericho stated, snapping Le Blanc out of her silence. "I think that perhaps I am boring you? " For a moment..something seemed out..Then Le Blanc realized.. .

"Your bird?" She asked, looking at the empty perch. Jericho's eyes continued their idle glances.

"Molting; I do not wish to subject her to the humiliation of being out." He said, nonchalantly, lowering his mask a bit, revealing his scarred jaw line, as he carefully sipped for his tea. "Are you complaining? You often state how she tends to upset your nerves." He said these words carefully, testingly, like a young bear cub, walking upon a frozen lake. Emilia rose an eyebrow.

"Aww, did the big bad bird put his birdy away for me?" there as an obvious chuckle in her voice. Jericho calmly continued sipping, not responding to the obvious taunt. Lifting the mask, back he looked up at her with his blood red eyes. Le Blanc remembered when she first looked into those eyes…  
><em><br>She was caught by the Demacians. This was before she was the Matron…she was simple Evaine…young sorceress, and agent of the Black Rose. The Matron sent her here, to sabotage a shipping of Hextech weaponry from Bandle City. She was found out by the some local magician, using some odd item to leech away at her Mana. A Relic that could very well be the bane all mages… Then…a flash of green fire, the sounds of a Carrion's call…and the monstrous form of a large raven, roaring at the Demacian; Just enough to force the girl to switch the draining relic to the Daemon. She had, at the time, found the creature unsettling, even more so when he fell to his knees, his form hidden by midnight black robes, a cane falling to his side. She stopped caring soon, though, releasing her power upon the girl that dared to interrupt her mission. Looking down, she watched the boy slowly look to her…with his calm, collecting, red eyes._

_"The Black Rose will bloom" Were his only words, as he forced himself up, and shuffled away, a small bird perched upon his shoulder. _

"You're lost in thought again." Jericho chuckled, sipping from his tea once more. Le Blanc jumped, looking to him. "Not plotting, are you?" his words were soft. They did not speak of suspicion…they were cold and emotionless.

"Now, why would I ever plot against you, dearest?" her words were sarcastic, and she knew, for a fact, that he found no amusement in sarcasm. He did not respond though. He, as usual, kept his temper down, his eyes dead on his tea cup. A soft sigh escaped her lips. "I suppose we should talk about the plan"

"The plan can wait." Jericho stated, with finality. "Business has taken our lives too much..surely, we can enjoy our time, can we not?" Le Blanc looked at the general, seeing his eyes dead set on her.

"I suppose so." She whispered, bringing her tea up to her lips….it was cold. She looked up…meeting Jericho's gaze…and it was too…


End file.
